I sent out a text to Alan, Lucky and Richie to see which brave souls would endure personal suffering in the pursuit of excellence. The response wasn’t great to be honest. Lucky was watching his brood and Richie would rather sit on his armchair and watch Liverpool (like the vast majority of their ‘fans’ it seems). Alan simply replied with the word ‘Roger’. He is a man among men if you ask me.
Before meeting Alan I had to pop out and pick up my latest internet purchase; my new £10 Howson Comp Plus Hybrid. First impressions were good. It looked the part (from others have seen) and was suitably shiny. The head was smaller than I was expecting but after thinking about it I came to the conclusion that I didn’t know one end of a hybrid club from another so my expectations were not based on anything so I should just get a grip.I rocked up late at Aintree and had to wait for a bay. Actually, seeing as the Ryder Cup is now a distant memory to the gobshites who dusted down the clubs the other week for a whack, there was almost horizontal sheet rain sweeping across the range and it was after 8pm I had the choice of any bay I wanted with the exception of three – and one of those was occupied by Alan. Where are all the irritating, chain smoking Spanish bastards now eh? (Click here if you don’t know what I’m talking about).
Alan had a look at my new weapon of score distruction and tried it out. He quickly commented that you don’t have to put much effort in to get some decent distance from it. I watched as he sliced shot after shot off towards the right-hand fence knowing that it was simply because he wasn’t used to the club…unfortunately, neither was I. Alan’s slice was a manageable, progressive wander out to the right whereas mine was a full blown 90* turn off the Astroturf. Hmmm, this might not be the bargain I thought.
I started my drills with ‘Arthur’. So often my saviour at Kirkby last week it seemed the magic had gone. I was back to sending the ball all the way out to the right. It would be fair to say that I was rustier than Prince Harry’s bollocks. After a few wasted balls I started to get back into it and finally began hitting it straight and long. Alan asked me how ‘Arthur’ was and I demonstrated my ability to pick out a target up the middle of the range and hit it by slicing the ball into a corner. Typical.
Next it was ‘Fivey’ and another round of the Yellow Basket Challenge! Alan went first and got close before waiting for me to try. The last time we played this game was the night where I couldn’t hit the ball never mind hit it straight so Alan was full of advice and encouragement. I didn’t need it as I sent a perfectly on target ball hurtling towards the basket. It didn’t go in but got close enough to show I meant business and that I had overcome my mid-iron demons.After peppering the basket with balls I made the mistake of saying “As you might have noticed Al, I’ve changed my swing a bit to help me hit the ball more cleanly and more accurately.” With that I completely fucked my shot up leaving Alan to say something like “yeah, it is much better now!” It is always the way isn’t it? They call it the commentators curse on the telly…
After about 10 minutes it was obvious no-one was going to get it in so I had a couple of cracks with the hybrid. This time, after I’d loosened up, I was much improved. Off the small tee I was still slicing the ball but nowhere near as bad but it was off the floor I was impressed with. I’m not sure if the club is designed to do it but I was able to fire the ball off into the wind and rain at a shallow angle meaning it ran and ran – even in the uncut grass at the range. That could be useful.
I finished the night with a mini game of the Blue Basket Challenge. I mentioned in another post that my chipping was atrocious at Kirkby the other week so I’m keen to spend some time practicing. I realised late on in that round what I was doing wrong and corrected it so hopefully it is just a case of remembering the lesson and putting in the hours. Wish me luck.
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